Raid: The Blacksmith-Chapter 89: Talk of The Town [The Blonde Haired Young Man]: Part Two

The young looking man is currently seated on a chair in a nice small fancy bakery — found in South Africa’s safe zone, District-4 — enjoying the delicacy of a sizable plate full of various pastries, placed on the table before him. His white, nearly pale skin, glistens in reaction to the sunlight that shines through the wide tempered glass window next to him. His deep ocean blue eyes, give off a sliver of mischievous intrigue. His silky blonde hair, styled in a neck-length mullet, glimmers as if turning almost gold. His frame is slim, yet somehow, paradoxically, toned. He wears a v-neck light fabric long-sleeved brown shirt, that leaves visible an obsidian amulet dangling around his neck. On his right hand, around his ring finger, middle finger and index finger, are rings, stylish rings of different colors. Namely, red, purple and blue, respectively. Over his lower body, he wears a pair of grey full-length trousers, their fabric, seemingly very similar to his shirt’s. And as for his shoes, he wears a pair of stylish pure white sneakers with a very unique design.

He quietly sits and enjoys his ’snack’, as he would call it, savoring each bite with childish facial expressions to convey his delight.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

On the other side of the table, sits a another young looking man. His friend. A dark skinned lad with pure white hair, tied back in a ponytail. His dark hazel colored eyes seemingly always half opened, as if he could drift off to sleep at any given moment. Clad in stereotypical formal attire, save for a coat. A black tie and a white long-sleeved shirt, tucked in black trousers held up by a white belt around his waist. And as for his feet, they’re garmented by a pair of very stylish black and white, formal-themed designer shoes, that shine endlessly as if resistant to dust and the like. His name is Vulcan, Vulcan Fallon. And he’s a member of the Disciplinary Committee of South Africa’s Warriors Association.

"You know how much I love my snacks." In a voice so quiet, you’d swear it’s almost as if he’s whispering, the blonde haired young man answers Vulcan with a thin smile.

"You’re lucky Warriors have a strong immune system. If you were a normal human, with how much you eat those things, day in-day out, you’d be in the hospital, right now." Vulcan casually remarks. Unlike the blonde haired young man, he rarely ever smiles, or even shows any other emotions via facial expressions, for that matter, yet his tone, as nonchalant as it is, carries with it a hint of genuine concern. The blonde haired young man, unlike most other people, having known Vulcan for a long time, can easily pick up on it.

"Heheh." The blonde haired young man chuckles. "Contrary to what other people think, you’re actually quite the worrywart, aren’t you, Vulcan?" He teases as he takes a bite of a piece of cake basically bathed in cream. "I trust the information I gave you about you-know-what came in pretty handy?" He sees fit to expertly change the subject, as if feeling called out.

"It did." Vulcan answers calmly, ignoring his friend’s dismissive nature. As he’s used to it. "Guess I owe you one." He adds.

"What are friends for?" The blonde haired young man shrugs. "Of course. If you really wanna pay me back regardless, I might be inclined to get you to get me some delicious treats if I feel like it."

Vulcan sighs lazily at the blonde haired young man’s playful statement, while he just shrugs it off with a chuckle.

Changing the subject again is Vulcan this time. "By the way, did you hear about a certain super rookie making a name for himself in Niger?"

"Old man-Chadwick’s lair?" Questions the blonde haired young man.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling countries lairs of Branch Managers?" Vulcan sighs as he instinctively rests his head on his right palm. "But yeah..." He continues. "That’s the one. Apparently some super rookie by the name of Raid has been going around solo clearing one Dungeon after another. He started with two E-Rank Dungeons, then went on to solo clear a D-Rank. After that, he went and tackled a C-Rank Dungeon all by his lonesome. And just yesterday, he apparently soloed a B-Rank Dungeon, and immediately told the press when he got out, that he’d go for an A-Rank soon." Vulcan explains.

"Yeah, and?" The blonde haired young man shrugs. "So he’s a rookie S-Rank Warrior who likes to solo clear Dungeons. Many have done the same. What makes him so special?" He asks as he keeps eating his ’snacks’.

"Well that’s just it." Says Vulcan. " He’s not an S-Rank Warrior."

"Hm?"

"He’s not even an A-Rank."

"What are you going on about?"

"The kid’s Class..." He pauses, as a very thin smirk forms on his face for the first time since arriving to meet his friend at this bakery. "Is actually the infamous Blacksmith Class." He adds.

"What!?" The blonde haired young man’s usual calm demeanor falls apart immediately after Vulcan says that, his fork dropping to his plate as a result of his sheer surprise. "You’re kidding." He dismisses. "You can’t be seriously telling me that an F-Rank solo cleared Dungeons up to B-Rank." He shakes his head in disbelief... but deep down, he knows Vulcan wouldn’t joke like that. Not to say he’s stiff, he just has an entirely different sense of humour from normal folk. One the blonde haired young man knows very well, what with how long they’ve known each other. He also trusts in Vulcan’s information gathering skills. Skills he deems Vulcan second only to him in. Not to mention the fact that, what he’s being told currently, isn’t exactly private knowledge. News somewhat too insignificant to reach him on their own, sure. But not at all private knowledge. After a long pause, he finally looks at Vulcan and asks; "When you say ’super rookie’. How long ago did he officially become a Warrior exactly?"

Vulcan leans back on his chair with a lazy sigh, as if to say; ’brace yourself’. "Three days..." He says. "Well, four now, I guess."

Vulcan’s friend pauses, as if he didn’t even hear what Vulcan just said. "Excuse me?" He finally speaks. "No, there has to be some explanation for this." But his words crumble immediately after he utters them.

As outlandish as it all sounds, both these men are smart enough to not look at this with a "yeah, right" mindset.

They rule out Rank Falsification for obvious reasons. They rule out the possibility of the F-Rank having a secret powerful Warrior backing him, since that would serve no solid purpose. They rule out everything that would try to dismiss the idea of an F-Rank being more capable than what the common power standards of the current world dictate.

But once they do. After they’ve ruled out all of that. Then doesn’t it make this super rookie all the more interesting?

"Raid, huh?" Murmurs the blonde haired young man. "Even his name alone is quite daring."

"Careful..." Vulcan warns, though there’s no real weight to it. "I only told you about him since I know how intriguing talents interest you, but you won’t be able to recruit him if that’s what you’re thinking of doing. He actually works for us." He emphasizes.

"By ’us’, you mean, the Warriors Association? So the old man hired him?"

"Yes." Vulcan confirms. "And he didn’t give him just any position at that. He made him a member of the Disciplinary Committee." He adds.

"What!?" The blonde haired young man exclaims. "Has that old man finally lost it!? Last I checked, there can only be a hundred members for each Branch’s Committee."

"Well... technically, the rule states that each Committee may consist of one hundred S-Rank Warriors. This Raid kid, on the other hand, isn’t an S-Rank. Not to mention, the old man actually made him a Solo Disciplinary Officer, meaning he’ll mostly work alone. So all in all, not a single rule has been broken, technically speaking." Vulcan explains, then takes one of the forks on the table to take a bite out of his friend’s pastries.

The blonde haired young man simply looks at his friend with a gentle smile as if to say; "took you long enough", or maybe he just sees it as a nice way to have some ammunition of his own, if ever Vulcan makes any more comments about his love of sweet treats, either one or the other. "He sure knows his way around rules, then, that old man." The young man praises with a small snicker.

"Well, he’s technically done something similar before, if you recall correctly. Remember the Magenta Princess?" Vulcan asks.

"Oh... right... Pink Knives Girl, how could I forget?"

"She’d cut you open if she heard you call her that." Vulcan casually comments.

"It’s a good thing she isn’t here, then." The blonde haired young man chuckles. "As for this Raid fella. I just might see about paying him a little visit when I can. I’d like to see for myself what he’s capable of."

"Go easy on him." Vulcan pleads nonchalantly. "It’s not every day a Warrior gets a special visit from the Knight General himself." He adds.

"Heheh..." The blonde haired young man laughs. "I’ll try." He promises. However, it’s weak, playful, and holds no weight to it. Vulcan knows that. But even he, as strong as he is, even he, an S-Rank Warrior, can’t do much in terms of stopping the man who sits in front of him. One of the twenty-four strongest people in the entire world. One of only eighteen SS-Rank Warriors. One of only eighteen people in the world who are classified as Continental Level Threats. One of the Eighteen Generals who serve the Six Emperors. The Knight General who serves the Empress of Chivalry. The Holy Knight, Memphis Rogen.